Chateau Firefly
by redwallanderson
Summary: My take on the opening gunfight. Please read and review. Just a oneshot for now.


_June 18, 1979_

State Trooper George Lyneman crouched quietly behind his patrol car and watched the battle unfold as about thirty cops fired rapidly into the house housing the long sought after murderers, the Firefly family. From what Lyneman had heard, the Fireflys were human garbage and had killed Sheriff John Quincy Wydell's brother. They were wanted for over seventy homicides and disappearances that they were believed to have caused over several years. They had no chance. They were surrounded, outnumbered and definitely outgunned.

Or at least, Lyneman thought they were outgunned until he heard M-16 fire chattering . . . from inside the house. He cursed and ducked just in time as a burst of bullets ricoheted off the metal of his patrol car where his head had just been. Lyneman knew that Sheriff Wydell wanted most of the perps taken in alive but . . . Those were real bullets and Lyneman didn't want to die.

He raised up, aiming his old M1 carbine (a reject from his father's old war days) at the already-shattered window of what could only be described as a slaughterhouse, Lyneman grimly knew. He fired once and then a bullet cracked past his head and he crouched back behind the car, panting deeply. He knew he was being a coward and so he took a very deep breath to calm himself.

"Get the fuck over it," he whispered, then he came back up and raised the .30-caliber carbine once more, pulling the trigger five or six times in quick succession. This time he was able to see the silhouette he was aiming at, standing in the window aiming a shotgun out at Lyneman and the other officers surrounding the house. The figure fired a shotgun blast and then narrowly avoided the bullets from Lyneman as the slugs stitched their way across the windowsill, kicking up splinters.

Lyneman saw a bullet spider-web the windshield of his patrol car and turned to the left to see another Firefly peering out another window, having fired at him. Lyneman raised the M1 to return fire and then remembered the shotgunner and turned, sheer terror glued on his young face. Two shotgun blasts rang out and glass and shards of torn metal exploded around him as buckshot slammed into the cruiser and he felt himself smashed backwards. It felt like he fell for an eternity before smashing into the ground, blood splashing everywhere Truly, it was only a second or two.

--

Rufus Firefly was defending his home. It was a primal manly instinct, especially for the abnormally tall killer. He was defending his home from police, clad in homemade steel body armor and carrying an M16. It made for a hell of a time, Rufus thought silently as he crouched by the windowsill, showered by shards of broken glass every time a bullet smashed some part of the window that hadn't been hit yet. He ignored the glass and looked down at his weapon, checking the magazine and grunting in satisfaction when he saw he had more than half the mag's capacity of bullets left.

He gazed out carefully over the bullet-scarred windowsill. There must have been more than fifty cops out there and . . . Four Fireflys. Rufus himself, Baby, Otis, Mama Firefly. Rufus cursed vehemently to himself, wondering where the fuck Spaulding and Tiny were when they were actually needed.

Sighing deeply, Rufus forced himself up and he fired another short burst out at the cops before diving away from the window. Rufus seemed to have amazing timing because right after he dived away, a fusillade of police bullets riddled through the wall where he had been crouched. And then a tear gas canister shot through the window he had been crouching at and then through other windows. Rufus didn't worry too much about that: he had his steel mask on, after all. He was worried when cops smashed through the doors with gas masks on and began firing at him, however. Fucking great . . .

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Baby and Otis retreating and curled his lip slightly and smiled when he saw Mama standing with him. Bullets were clanging all over his homemade metal armor, and Rufus was about to let out a laugh as he fired back and saw cops dropping like flies . . . Then they found a vulnerable spot in the armor. Rufus gasped as the bullet ripped through his back and out his chest and he toppled to the ground, bullets hitting the armor the whole way through. But the armor didn't matter anymore: Rufus was already done for? He coughed up blood in the darkness of his mask and then . . . Everything got really dark and Rufus began crying. He hoped Hell wasn't real . . . Then . . . Darkness.

--

Four State Troopers had been killed and fourteen had been severely wounded but the firefight was over. How many Fireflys were dead? One. How many were captured? One. How many had escaped? Two. It was the biggest flop in the history of law enforcement up until then and critics widely shunned Wydell.


End file.
